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A beast whose vestigial wings are now naught but bone. Concentrated Mist spills forth from its body in such powerful waves that to stand in its way is to risk losing both body and soul in one fell attack. Perhaps this is why the name of the elvoret is so often heard in the tavern when passions flare, the direness of the creature adding weight to the most vehement of drunken oaths.

Hear ye! There has been an announcement regarding the sudden falling health of Lord Cupper, known for his crapulous ways and fondness of spirits! Based upon the testimony given by Lord Cupper upon his regaining consciousness, the cause of his collapse in the lower market has been determined beyond a shadow of a doubt! It appears that, in an attempt to distill the legendary demon drink, he had been 'experimenting,' a process which involved consuming roughly ten halfcasks of alcoholic beverage a day. Lord Cupper himself admits his excess, and has promised to confine himself to wine, knowing it to be of a beneficial nature, in amounts not exceeding two halfcasks per day.